


sunshine sugar baby

by starseas



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 16:18:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseas/pseuds/starseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s maisie styles tomlinson’s first day of school, harry is freaking out, and louis’ trying his best to calm everybody down.</p><p>♡ also on tumblr at starseas ♡</p>
            </blockquote>





	sunshine sugar baby

She was born in the heart of the hurricane season.

It was a day when the rain was falling down in sheets, making the world outside into a blur of gray and white and green, and Louis still remembers the way that the hospital room had been all dim light and pale shadows and the muffled sounds of a baby girl’s heart.

Like the wings of a hummingbird, the nurse had said. Listen to that.

And Louis had watched over Harry’s shoulder as their baby slept, her pink eyelids dusted in pale blue veins, and her hair was just an electric shock of fuzz—like a lemon, Harry had said. Look at that.

When she opened her eyes for the first time, her eyelashes were angel blonde and her stare didn’t have a color yet, but Louis could see that one day, she was going to have eyes that were all ocean blue. She was going to have eyes that you could swim in. 

The nurse had asked them, “Does she have a name?”

“Yeah. She’s Maisie,” Harry had said, brushing his thumb over the hairless slope of her eyebrows, and his whole hand was bigger than her head back then. “Maisie Styles Tomlinson.”

“I like that,” Louis said, and Harry just leaned his head back against Louis’ chest as they watched their baby girl sleep, and Louis had never been so much in love with life as he was in that moment—in that moment, in the middle of a thunderstorm that made the whole world blue and gray while Harry held the sunlight in his hands.

And two days later when they brought Maisie home with them for the first time, Harry had forced Louis to put her in the crib by their bedside—no, don’t actually bring her into the bed, Louis, Jesus, what if I roll over—and so she had slept in her crib, wrapped up in a square of pale moonlight with her thumb in her mouth, the small swell of her belly filling out her baby pink onesie. 

That night, they hadn’t slept at all—

There was something so electric about watching their girl breathe, about watching her blink and stir in her sleep, making little sounds like she was just testing out her voice. Her little hands were fisted and sometimes she would reach out into the air like she was grabbing for stars, and Louis felt so full of love that he couldn’t take it.

Maisie Styles Tomlinson. Imagine that.

And later on, when their bedroom was full of hazy purple moonlight, Harry had laid down over their bed sheets and spread his arms open like he was asking Louis to get into them, and half of his face was drenched in silver light. Eyes crinkling, he was laughing as he said, “Well, come on, Daddy. Show me what you got.”

“Honestly, babe,” Louis had sighed, lowering himself down over Harry and using his elbows to keep himself up far enough so that he could kiss over Harry’s neck, over Harry’s throat and collarbone, down the line of Harry’s stomach, going lower and lower and lower still. “That’s actually never going to be as hot as you think it is.”

And that was the beginning of that.

-

When Louis blinks awake, the other side of the bed is empty.

And it’s weird because the other side of the bed is never empty, because Harry’s always there, and Harry’s always wrapped up around Louis in his sleep like he can’t even help it.   
And hell if Louis doesn’t like that, having Harry so close.

Sitting up in bed, Louis rubs at his eyes and lets the world fall back into focus in degrees—first, the swimming dimness of the room lit up by the moonlight washing in through the window, and then the dresser and walls and floors, the door leading into the bathroom, the door leading out into the hallway, everything seeming like a shadow of a shadow, an echo of an echo, or of a dream.

“Harry?” Louis whispers into the darkness, frowning towards the bathroom door, and he yawns as he scrubs a hand down his face.   
When there’s no answer, Louis thinks about going back to sleep.

He thinks about going back to sleep and then finding Harry in the morning, about waking Maisie and getting her ready for her first day of school, but then, he already feels it—that empty ache low in his stomach, that sleepy need to have his fingers in Harry’s hair, on Harry’s face, trailing down the soft line of Harry’s neck, going low, low, and then lower still.

Sometimes Louis thinks that he’s a little bit obsessed. 

Sighing, he kicks back the cotton sheets and shuffles around until his legs are dangling off the side of the bed, the wooden floorboards a cold shock against his bare feet.   
“Harry,” Louis whispers again, a bit louder this time, because fuck, he really does not want to move. 

But once again, there’s no bloody answer—there’s just a static silence and the moonlight rushing in, so Louis groans as he stands up, not even bothering to put on a shirt before making his way towards the bedroom door. He reaches it and pulls it open, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he moves out into the hall.

Their house is small, cozy and warm and fully decorated, but it always seems so much bigger at night.

Well, it’s not really night anymore, Louis thinks—it’s only an hour or so before he has to wake Maisie up and get in her in the bath, but still. The sun hasn’t risen yet and everything is still a blur of shadow and moonlight, the whole world flooded in darkness, and as Louis shuffles down the short stretch of hallway, he keeps one hand on the wall to steady himself. Harry must be in Maisie’s room, Louis thinks, because he’s been acting bloody strange for the past few days—and yeah, it’s definitely hitting Harry now that Maisie’s five years old and she’ll be going to school as soon as the sun wakes up.

The other day, for example, Louis walked in on Harry kneeling at the edge of Maisie’s bed, and instead of reading the little book of fairy tales that he was supposed to be reading her, he was quizzing Maisie on her own bloody name. Maisie’s eyes were sleepy, her head poking up out of her sheets as Harry had said, “And it’s Maisie like a what, babe? If anybody asks you how to say your name, you’ll tell them that it’s Maisie like a what?”

“I’ll tell them that it’s Maisie like a daisy, Daddy, I know.”

And Louis had laughed and kissed Maisie on her forehead before dragging Harry out of the room and flicking off the lights, and back in the quiet silence of their bedroom, Harry had frowned against Louis’ temple and whispered, “Maybe we should’ve named her Sam, Lou. Everybody knows how to say the name Sam.”

“You worry too much, Haz,” Louis sighed, but he was already gone.

He’s realizing now that, yeah, Harry might be going a little bit crazy.

Stopping at the end of the hall, Louis fumbles for the doorknob before cracking the door open and glancing inside, making sure not to make too much noise in case he wakes Maisie up by mistake.

Inside her bedroom, all of the colors are washed out by the moon—the purples turning into silvers, the pinks turning into whites—but Maisie’s face is glowing beneath a bar of white light pouring in from outside, and Louis thinks that she might just be the most beautiful thing in the world. She’s curled up on her side, thumb sitting in her mouth as her head pokes up out of the floral blankets, and her curls are wild even in her sleep.

Just like Harry’s, Louis thinks, and then he smiles.

Silent, he watches the glittering mobile stars spin above her bed, twirling and reflecting moonbeams that slice through the dark, but other than Maisie, the whole room is empty. Louis frowns as he steps back out into the hallway, glancing back towards his room.

Alright, then. So where the hell is Harry?

-

Louis ends up finding Harry in the kitchen. 

The overhead lights are all off, but silver moonlight slants in through the windows and leaves squares of pale brightness across the white tiled floors, making everything feel like a dream. 

Louis pauses, stopping in the kitchen doorway, and he knows he really shouldn’t be surprised by anything that Harry does at this point in their relationship, but in all honestly, he still is.

He can’t help it.

He can’t even help it because Harry’s wide awake and he’s standing by the kitchen counter wearing his boxers and one of Louis’ knitted jumpers that he has to roll up at the elbows because it’s too small for him, and he’s got icing on his lip, face drawn down in concentration as he mixes something in a bowl.

All over the counter, there are metal bowls filled with pink icing, pink sparkles in the shapes of stars and beads, and there are pink sweets, too—ribbons and licorice all spread out across the granite, lit up by the moon. Louis stares for a moment longer, and he almost wants to laugh but he’s also quite concerned because, like he said, Harry’s been acting strange lately. 

“Harry,” He says slowly, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the doorframe. “What are you doing?” 

Harry jumps a little, but he grins brightly when he spots Louis a few feet away. “Lou,” He says, grin growing wider. He’s got pink icing on his bottom lip and Louis wants to lick it off, but he blames that on the fact that he’s still half asleep, still half in a dream and half out of it. On the fridge, a picture Maisie drew of all of them seems bright against the darkness. “I’m making cupcakes,” Harry says.

“You’re—” Louis cuts off with a small laugh, hand rising up to rub across his mouth. “You’re making cupcakes? For what? Harry, it’s—” He looks off to the side, at where the time glows neon blue on the microwave, that and the pinks the only colors in the dimly lit kitchen. “Harry, it’s five in the morning.”

Harry frowns, pushing hair away from his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing flour there. “I know, I know, but see. Maisie starts school tomorrow, yeah? So, I was thinking—what if she can’t make any friends? Like what if the other kids don’t like her or something? Or if they’ve already met before? And then I thought, well, what’s one thing that everybody likes?”

“Cupcakes,” Louis answers, licking over his lips to try to keep from smiling. “Cupcakes is your answer to all of this late night, philosophical thinking, is it?” 

Jesus. Harry is quite literally insane. 

Grinning, Harry nods as he continues to stir the icing, and his face seems soft beneath the light that spills in through the backyard door. “Well, I figured that if Maisie brought cupcakes in on the first day, then all of the kids would have to like her, wouldn’t they?” 

Louis raises his eyebrows. His eyes are still heavy but he knows he can’t go back upstairs without Harry, not after seeing him in his boxers and Louis’ own knitted jumper, knowing how he’d be all soft beneath Louis’ fingers, how his moans would be all sleepy and warm. “So, let me get this straight,” Louis says, still trying hard not to smile. “You’re planning to bribe a bunch of four year olds into being our daughter’s friend?”

“Hey, some of them are five,” Harry replies, making a face like he thinks Louis’ being the weird one here, and the moonlight edges the lines of him in silver as he says, “And it’s not bribing, Louis. It’s just, you know—it’s suggesting.” 

Louis smiles without meaning to, and he can’t even help the way his voice comes out all fond as he slowly starts to move towards Harry, the world around them feeling soft and quiet. “Baby,” he says, standing in front of Harry now, blue eyes locked on green, green eyes looking back. “You do realize that our daughter is like the best thing in the world, yeah?” 

Harry smiles at him and Louis holds his gaze as he gently takes the bowl from Harry’s hands and sets it down on the counter, which is covered in sprinkles and icing. “The best,” Harry agrees, his voice only a breath as Louis leans in closer, sliding his hands up beneath Harry’s jumper to rub small circles over the dip of his lower back. 

There’s still icing on Harry’s bottom lip, so Louis leans in to lick it off, and then he just doesn’t stop because Harry’s right here and he’s willing, he’s always so bloody willing—so Louis just kisses over the corner of Harry’s mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, over his closed eyelids that seem lilac in the dimness. Everything is moving in slow motion and Louis feels like he’s underwater as he kisses over Harry’s face, hands tangling in Harry’s hair, making Harry swallow thickly, a moan stuck at the back of his throat.

The world spins slow, slow, slow, but Louis’ heart beats fast.

Harry’s breathing hard now, his fingers tightening on Louis’ hips, and there’s that ache again in the pit of Louis’ stomach, an ache that’s full of love, an ache that says I want you all the time, babe and isn’t shy about it.

And yeah, okay, Louis’ probably a bit more than a little obsessed. 

He brushes his mouth over Harry’s once, twice, and then he’s pulling away to press their foreheads together, thumb brushing over the nape of Harry’s neck. He watches as Harry’s eyes slowly open, and then they’re staring at each other, the green of Harry’s eyes looking like leaves on the surface of a pool.

Swallowing, Louis licks his lips, and he already wants to kiss Harry again, he really does. “Let’s finish these cupcakes and then wake our girl up, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, tilting his chin up so his mouth is pressed against Louis’ jaw—not kissing, just pressed there like it makes Harry feel better somehow. His fingers are still on Louis’ hips, but they’re gentle now, just butterfly touches against his skin, and Louis’s hot all over and it’s crazy, it’s crazy that after this many years together it’s still like this—this burning heat, this need to be closer and closer, so close that you can’t tell where he starts and where he finishes. “But,” Harry says, his voice all thoughtful and sleepy. “Could we maybe stay like this for a bit?

Louis nods, and he’s smiling because he likes this plan. “Yeah, we can stay like this.”

Harry sways forward, laughing sleepily as their mouths meet, and then they’re kissing again, all glitter and love and soft things in the middle of a moonlit kitchen, and they’re still kissing when the moonlight fades away into something brighter, as it fades away into a sunlight like tangerine fizz—and Louis’ so aware of his baby girl sleeping soundly upstairs, of Harry laughing loud and smearing pink icing across Louis’ face just to lick it off again—and Louis thinks that honestly, he’s so fucking lucky.

He thinks that honestly, he’s the luckiest guy in the world.

-

An hour later, the house is full of sunlight.

Harry’s got a load of laundry on already and there are birds chirping outside, sun beams moving in through the open windows and igniting the dust in the air. Upstairs, Louis cracks open Maisie’s bedroom door to poke his head inside, smiling when he sees that she’s still fast asleep. Light steals slowly over the soft pink walls and above her head, mobile stars spin—silver and glittering, around and around and around.

For a moment, Louis just watches, and then he quietly makes his way towards her bed, stepping over a teddy bear and the building blocks scattered in front of the doorway. Sitting down at the edge of Maisie’s bed, Louis gently brushes the curls away of her face, and her skin is all baby soft and warm.

“Hey, cute stuff. Wake up,” Louis says, grinning as he gently pokes her nose, a little button that reminds him of himself as a boy, and then he laughs when she pouts in her sleep, eyebrows furrowing.

Maisie rubs at her eyes with her little fists as she shuffles around in bed, moving like she can get away from the sound. And Louis laughs again at that because bloody hell, he actually feels like he’s talking to Harry right now.

He can tell she’s awake, too, because she always snores softly when she’s sleeping, and right now she isn’t making a sound.

Louis trails his thumb over the soft fuzz of her eyebrows and smiles because he can’t even help it. “Maze, love, it’s your first day of school. Papa’s packing your lunch downstairs, I thought you were excited.”

And at that, Maisie blinks awake, her blue eyes bright. 

“Ah, I knew you were awake!” Louis laughs, tickling her sides, and Maisie squeals and giggles as she shoots upwards, wrapping her arms around Louis’ neck and laughing into his ear.

“Daddy! I really was asleeping!” She giggles, hanging off his back as he stands up, and her words are all soft the way a little girl’s words always are, her skin smelling like baby powder and strawberry soap.

“You were not,” Louis laughs, holding onto her calves as he spins them around in circles, small pieces of her bedroom passing by them like a dream—the pale pink curtains made white by the sunlight, antique lace the color of blush, the doll house sitting in the corner of the room, and her white dressers that she covered in pink and purple butterfly stickers. 

A giggle bubbles out of Maisie’s mouth, and the sound reminds Louis of sunshine. “Daddy!” She shouts, laughing, her arms locked around Louis’ neck as they spin, the bedroom moving past them in flashes. “You’re gonna make me be late for my school fish!”

“Babe,” Louis laughs, coming to a stop before slowly setting her back down onto the floor. Turning towards her, he kneels down and brushes curls away from her forehead. “Babe, there is no school fish, remember? Only Nemo gets a school fish.”

“Oh,” Maisie says, sounding thoughtful. She frowns a second later. “Well, that’s not very fair, right?”

Louis laughs again, shaking his head as he stands back up and makes his way towards her dresser. “It’s not fair at all, kiddo.”

Maisie hums and then she’s at Louis’ side, glancing up at him with a frown as he pulls a pink glittery top out of her top drawer. “No, Daddy, not that one!”  
Louis blinks, looking down at her and licking his lips so that he doesn’t laugh. The thing is, Maisie always gets so serious, and it’s the funniest thing in the world, the way she acts like she’s the queen of the house all the time. Louis frowns down at her. “What? I thought you liked this shirt.”

“That was last day, Daddy.” Maisie says, sighing like this is something that Louis should know already. She always says last day instead of yesterday, and she’s only up to his bellybutton, but she’s standing there in her Cinderella nightgown with her hands on her hips as the sunlight flooding in and brightening the edges of her face, the little freckles on her nose. “I like my butterfly shirt this day.”

“Oh, do you?” Louis says, but he’s grinning as he places the pink shirt back into the drawer and pulls out the white butterfly shirt instead, tossing it over his shoulder. “Any more special requests, babe?”

Maisie gasps, and her blue eyes are wider than the moon. “No way! Papa says this isn’t an astronaut, you know!”

And then she’s bounding off into the hallway, her giggles echoing as she races towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Louis thinks that she definitely meant to say restaurant because Harry’s always trying that with her when she asks for something else to eat for supper—this isn’t a restaurant, Maisie, no special requests—but of course, Harry always cracks in the end.

Laughing, Louis shakes his head as he picks up the rest of Maisie’s clothes moves out into the hall, grabbing a towel from the linen closet beside his and Harry’s bedroom door, a small purple one covered in cartoon turtles.

Maisie shouts and giggles and races down the hall, shouting, “Mornin’ Papa!” as she presses her face in between the stair railings, little hands fisted around the bars. Louis smiles when he hears Harry yell back up, “Hi Maze, did you have a nice sleep?” 

“Yep!” Maisie smiles, and then she’s racing off into the bathroom without even looking back at Louis as she yells, “Let’s go, Daddy, I’m gonna be late!”

Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling as he follows his girl.

Alright. Time for a bath, then.

-

The bathroom is soft and light with early morning.

“Eyes closed,” Louis says, his voice strained as he kneels by the side of the tub, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows to stop them from getting wet. Maisie huffs but she shuts her eyes anyways, and Louis smiles. “That’s good, babe. Keep ‘em shut until I say so, yeah?”

“Okay,” Maisie sighs, and then Louis’ dipping the wash cloth into the warm bath water and wringing it out over Maisie’s head, smiling as she sputters and giggles and blinks, her eyelashes thick with water as she rubs at them with her little fists, frowning. “Daddy! You put soap in my eyebrows!”

She means to say eyes of course, she just means to say eyes, but Louis doesn’t comment on that. She’s so bloody adorable.

“I said to keep ‘em shut, Maisie!” He instead, shaking his head as he watches his baby girl in the bathtub. She’s naked as the day she was born, and the sunlight washing in through the small square window above edges her in gold—it lights up the curls that are soaked and matted to her head, a ring of light that looks like a halo. Louis grins, his voice warm as he looks down at her. “And there’s no soap in that water yet, babe, so nice try.”

Maisie grins shyly and Louis laughs as he turns on the tap again and squirts some strawberry scented soap into the stream, the bath tub filling up with pink bubbles that remind him of gum drops.

“Did I tell a lie?” Maisie whispers a moment later, her eyes wide.

Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling as he turns off the tap, the whole bathroom shifting back into a sleepy sort of silence, a silence full of sunlight and the silverware clinking downstairs. “Nah, cute stuff, you were just telling a joke this time.”

“Oh,” Maisie says, quite serious as she pushes wet strands away from her face and splashes around in the tub a bit, her hands swirling over the water in front of her. “Well. That’s good of me.”

“It sure is, babe.” Louis says, and he has to try hard not to laugh. 

His girl is something else, she really is.

He feels a bit bad though, because he knows how much Harry loves doing the morning bath routine. Louis made him stay downstairs today because, knowing him, he’d probably end up putting on his swim trunks and hopping into the bathtub with Maisie, because they do that all the time and pretend that it’s the ocean.

Maze is the mermaid and Harry is a fisherman, every time.

Sighing, Louis glances back down at her.

There are little fishy stickers on the bath tiles, a spectrum of red and blue and green against white, but she never pays attention to those. She just dips down to swim around in the tub, the water rising up over her chin, and then she blinks up towards Louis a moment later, the sunlight making her eyes as pale as sky. “Wash me, please.”

And Louis does laugh this time, because the way she says it is so Harry that it hurts, but then he’s rubbing the wash cloth over her belly and her feet anyways, grinning when she giggles and kicks away, the bath water splashing up into the air.

“Daddy!” She laughs, “That snickles me!”

“It tickles you, Maisie,” Louis smiles. He finishes washing her up, lathering soap onto her curls before splashing water over her head to rinse it out. Maisie squeals, sputtering dramatically, and Louis says, “Hey, it’s your fault you won’t take a proper shower.”

But he’s smiling, he’s smiling because hell, he loves his girl so much.

“Showers are for boys that smell!” Maisie giggles, her nose crinkling.

Laughing, Louis stands up and wipes his wet hands on his thighs before picking Maisie up by the shoulders and getting her out of the tub. He wraps her up in a towel and uses another towel to wrap up her hair—that’s the way girls are aspposed to do it, Daddy—and after placing her down on the edge of the toilet, Louis blinks when he notices that her toe nails are painted bright blue. “Maze,” He says, “when did you get those done?” 

Maisie giggles, looking down at her feet as she wiggles them around in front of her, the paint glittering beneath the morning light. “Papa did them for me last day. And I did his.”

“You painted Papa’s nails?” Louis asks, grinning as he moves towards the sink, the bathroom tiles wet beneath his socked feet. 

“Yep. Papa likes having pretty nails.”

“I see,” Louis laughs, and then he’s grabbing Maisie’s pink butterfly tooth brush from the bowl beside the sink and passing it over to her, frowning when she starts brushing over her little mouth instead of brushing her actual teeth. “Maisie, babe,” he says slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “Why won’t you open your mouth?”

“Because,” Maisie whispers with wide eyes, her words mumbled as she glances up at Louis from where she’s sitting on the toilet seat. Eyebrows wiggling, she says, “I have a secret inside.”

Louis blinks, licking his lips to try to stop himself from laughing. “Uh, okay. Of course. And you can’t tell me what this secret is?”

“Nope,” Maisie sings, still smiling shyly. “It’s for the fairies only.”

And well, there’s not really any arguing with that, is there?

-

After finishing her bath, Maisie runs off down the hall to dress herself on her own—I can do it by myself, Daddy—so Louis laughs and lets her go, thinking that yeah, she’s definitely going come downstairs wearing her shirt as pants, somehow. 

It wouldn’t be the first time that that happened.

Making his way downstairs two steps at a time, Louis grins as he steps around a puzzle piece that’s been left on the bottom step, and then he picks it up and shoves it into his pocket. He’ll give it back to Maisie later, if he remembers. He know she definitely will.

Downstairs, everything is much brighter than it was just an hour ago—instead of moon beams, pale sunlight trickles in through the front door and casts squares of brightness across the hardwood floors. The walls are a soft yellow thanks to Harry’s bright ideas, and Louis shakes his head as he walks down the hallway and notices that Maisie’s gotten to the baseboards with her rainbow pack of crayons.

Right, so. It looks like Louis will be cleaning those tonight, then.

Moving into the kitchen, Louis finds Harry sitting at the breakfast nook with his head cradled in his hands, whole body arched like he’s trying to forget himself. There’s a bowl of oranges in the middle of the table and Harry’s body is edged in gold, stray pieces of his hair looking like they’ve caught on fire.

Outside, Louis catches small pieces of Maisie’s swing set in the backyard, green grass covered in crisp autumn leaves.

“Hey babe,” Louis greets as he makes his way towards the kitchen island. The tiled floor is cold beneath his feet but he smiles when he picks up Maisie’s lunch. It’s in a brown paper bag and her name is written on it in permanent marker, surrounded by little drawn hearts and smiley faces. Louis glances over towards Harry, eyebrows raised. “What did you pack her, then?”

Harry rubs a hand down his face. “Strawberry jam.”

“Good, pal,” Louis grins, setting the paper bag back down onto the counter before opening it up and pulling out the sandwich, “You know it’s all she ever eats.”

Harry doesn’t answer that, but then a moment later he speaks, and the words muffle themselves against his hands. “Please don’t call me pal, Louis. We have a child.” 

Louis laughs at that, shaking his head as he looks into the paper bag, just wanting to make sure that Harry packed her at least one healthy snack—and his eyebrows furrow when he notices a folded piece of paper at the bottom of the bag instead, baby pink and tucked in right in between a juice box and tupperware of halved strawberries.

Reaching into the bag, Louis grabs the piece of paper and unfolds it, quickly glancing towards the kitchen table to make sure Harry’s head is still down. It is. Eyes scanning the paper, Louis reads it to himself quietly, hand coming up to rest over his mouth. 

Maisie!! ♥ ♥ ♥

Hi our little sunshine sugar baby! Just here to tell you that your daddies love you SOOO much and that you are the princess of our hearts! Even when it’s ☂ you are our ☀!! Have a great day!! We love you! ☺

Oh my god.

“Harry,” Louis starts slowly, holding the piece of paper up as he tries not to laugh. “What’s this?”

“Huh—” Harry says, shifting around in his seat to look at him, and he stills once his eyes catch onto the note in Louis’ hands, mouth pursing like he’s just been caught. “Oh.”

Louis laughs again, waving the paper around, but he’s honestly not surprised at all. This is so Harry. “You left a love note in Maisie’s lunch, did you?”

Harry frowns, but his mouth is quirked up a bit like he’s about to smile even though he doesn’t want to. “I just wanted to remind her that she always has us. You know, in case she doesn’t make many friends at school—”

“You’re gonna get her trampled on the playground, is what you’re gonna do! Jesus, mate, you’d think you’d never been to Pre-K.” Louis laughs, placing the note back into the bag. Despite all the crap he’s giving Harry right now, he likes the letter, and he thinks Harry’s the cutest little shit in the world for doing it. Glancing over at Harry, Louis grins. “I especially love how you added in the little pictures so that she’d understand it.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs, turning away.

Louis just smiles, noticing that across from Harry, Maisie’s pancakes are cut out in the shape of hearts and Harry’s sliced up bananas as eyes and a mouth to make a smiley face on the top one. “That’s cute, Haz. Wonderful attention to detail.”

Harry sighs, breath rattling on an exhale. “I don’t think I can do this, Lou.”

Louis frowns, but before he can say anything about it, there’s a loud banging noise upstairs, followed by Maisie going, “Ouch!”

“Maze, you alright?” Louis yells, eyebrows furrowing.

There’s no answer from Maisie, but then a second later Louis hears the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs, coming closer and closer until Maisie’s walking into the kitchen, her bottom lip quivering as she rubs at her eyes. “Papa, I snubbed my toe.”

Harry’s out of his seat in an instant, making his way across the kitchen and kneeling down in front of Maisie before picking up her foot and resting it over his knee. “Which one hurts, babe?”

Maisie sniffles, wiping curls away from her face. “The big one.”

Harry nods and then he’s lowering his head down and pressing a kiss to her little painted toe, keeping his mouth there until a giggle bursts out of Maisie and she ends up smiling through her tears.

Harry grins, looking back up at her. “All better?”

Maisie nods, and Louis watches as she continues to sniffle, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck as he picks her up and brings her over to the kitchen table, placing her down in front of her pancakes.

Harry tousles her hair, grinning wide. “Eat up, Maze, we have to go wait outside for the bus soon.”

“Okay,” Maisie says, and then she’s picking up her fork and eating the banana slices one by one. “Yum,” she smiles, and the sunlight makes her skin all soft and pale. “Thanks, Papa.”

Louis notices that Maisie’s dressed in an outfit that he definitely did not pick out for her—she got herself little tights and a dress and pink glittery flats, and he honestly didn’t even know that she knew how to do that, how to dress herself, so he’s sort of confused as to how she managed on her own, but before he gets the chance to say anything about, Harry’s voice is falling out into the room, low and careful.

“Maisie,” He says slowly, mouth turned down into a frown as she bites into her pancake. “Maze, where’s your tooth?” 

Maisie’s eyes widen and she drops her fork, her little hand coming up to cover her mouth as she giggles. “Papa! It was my secret for the fairies!”

“Your secret for the fairies?” Harry asks, and Louis seriously thinks Harry’s about to fall over, green eyes wide with disbelief. “Babe, where did you put your tooth?”  
Maisie smiles shyly again, just like she did upstairs. “I don’t know.”

Harry scrubs a hand down his face, shaking his head. “Well, when did you lose it then?”

She seems to think about that for a second, and then she giggles again. “I don’t know, Papa!”

“Alright,” Harry sighs, “You finished eating?”

“Yes! Thank you,” Maisie grins, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before hopping off the stool and crossing the kitchen. Louis tousles her hair as she passes by him and she laughs and flashes him a smile, and oh—okay, her front tooth is definitely gone.

How’d he even manage to miss that?

“Make sure if you’ve got your backpack at the front door, Maze!” Louis shouts a second later, when Maisie’s already disappeared into the hallway, little feet pattering over the hardwood floors.

“Okay!” She yells back, and Louis smiles.

Harry’s standing in front of Louis before he even has a chance to blink—his eyes are wide, so green and so, so, wide, and Louis sort of wants to kiss him on the mouth. But then Harry’s saying, “Lou, you do realize that our daughter is missing a tooth?”

“Well, yeah,” Louis grins, but then he blinks when Harry frowns, both of them standing in the space between the kitchen island and the snack cupboard that’s covered in Maisie’s drawings. “What’s the matter? I think she looks quite cute.”

“Yeah, obviously we think she looks cute, Louis, we’re her parents.” Harry says, but Louis’ trying not to laugh because Harry seriously looks like he’s about to cry right now, and he doesn’t want to make him feel worse. “But what about the kids at school?” Harry frowns. “They probably still have full sets—”

Louis’ trying to listen to what Harry’s saying but at the same time, they’re standing so close to together and Harry’s face is lit up beneath the early morning sunlight, every line and angle seeming softer, sleepy and warm, and Louis suddenly just wants to touch him.

“Hey,” Louis says, swaying forward and cradling Harry’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing over the soft space right beside Harry’s ears. He leans in, nosing along Harry’s cheek before shifting to press a small kiss to Harry’s mouth—and then another and another, their hips brushing together in a way that makes Louis’ head spin. “Hey, you taste like sugar.”

“Louis,” Harry sniffles, but he’s smiling against Louis’ mouth as he kisses back, his fingers tightening on Louis’ hips. Everything around them seems to melt away until it’s just the two of them, until it’s just the hazy autumn kitchen and the swimming sound of two beating hearts. Harry kisses Louis again, and then he says, “You can’t distract me with kisses.”

“Like hell I can’t,” Louis laughs, leaning in again—

“Gross!” Someone says suddenly, and Louis turns to see Maisie standing in the doorway with a giggly smile on her face, little hands fisted around her backpack straps as she looks up at them. “Papa why are you slickin’ Daddy’s face!”

“I think you mean licking, Maze,” Louis laughs, breaking away from Harry before making his way towards Maisie. “And no reason, really. Just ‘cause I love him so much.”

Maisie giggles, saying oh my goodness, and Louis smiles as he picks her up, her one arm wrapping around the back of his neck. “You ready to go, cutie?” Louis asks, and Harry’s smiling at them both with shining green eyes.

“Yep,” Maisie nods, smiling, and she presses her forehead against Louis’ cheek for a moment before leaning in to lick one big stripe up the side of his face.

“Maisie, Jesus!” Louis shouts, but he’s laughing as he wipes away the spit, using his free hand to tickle her sides as he starts out into the hallway. “Why’d you go and do that for?” 

“Dunno,” Maisie smiles, nuzzling her face sleepily into Louis’ neck as he carries her into the foyer, sunlight washing in through the glass of the front door and casting squares across the tile. “Just ‘cause I love you so much.”

-

“Daddy, Papa! Why is the sun following me?” Maisie asks suddenly, sounding genuinely concerned as she races back and forth across the driveway, wide eyes trained on the pale autumn sun. 

Louis grins, shaking his head. 

“The sun thinks you’re pretty, Maisie.” Harry grins from where he’s sitting on the top porch step, gloved hands cradling a mug of steeped tea. “That’s why he’s following you around.”

Maisie stops running, and Louis watches as she turns to squint over at him with a frown. “Boys can’t follow me because I’m pretty, Daddy. That sun’s a loser!”

Louis laughs, clapping his hands. “That’s our girl. Any boy follows you around when you don’t want them to, you tell them your daddies will give them a knuckle sandwich, yeah?”

“Yeah, a big one right in the nose!” Maisie giggles, doing some strange ballerina movement with her arms as she spins around, looking up at Louis with glittering blue eyes. “And I can help!”

Louis grins, tousling her hair. “Of course you can.”

Before anyone can say another word, there’s the distant sound of an engine rumbling somewhere down the street, 

“My school bus is here!” Maisie shouts, smiling, and the butterfly clip in her hair glitters in the sunlight. “Papa, Daddy, can you see it?”

“Yeah, babe, we see it,” Harry laughs, standing up and moving down the porch steps until he’s standing with Louis and Maisie near the end of the drive, watching as the bus turns the corner and comes into view—just a small yellow speck in the distance.

“Alright, come here, you,” Louis says, “I want a hug.”

Maisie giggles as she jumps up and gives Louis a quick hug, and then she gives Harry a hug as well and by the time Harry finally lets her go, the school bus is driving up to the curb and pulling to a stop, the children looking out of the filmed glass with wide eyes full of wonder. 

The doors open and the bus driver smiles out at them before looking down at Maisie. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Hello!” Maisie shouts, smiling widely as she makes her way towards the bus. She hoists herself up onto the steps, and her voice carries back towards the driveway when she says, “I’m Maisie like a daisy.”

Louis laughs and says, “Oh, god,” and the bus driver raises her eyebrows and says, “Is that right? Well you can go sit down, Maisie like a daisy. Any seat you want, how does that sound?”

“Great,” Maisie says, and then she’s gone, and then she’s making her way towards a seat in the back, and Louis can’t see her anymore.

“Oh, god.” Harry says, and the word is just a breath.

Louis catches Maisie waving to them in the window as the bus drives away, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance until it becomes nothing at all, swallowed up like a stone by an ocean.

“Oh, god,” Harry says again, scrubbing a hand down his face before. “Lou, she’s gone, she’s gone—”

Louis shakes his head, turning around and heading back towards their front porch. He sits down on the top step, where the wood has been warmed up by the sun, and he nods towards Harry with a grin. “Come here, you.”

And Harry does. 

Harry sits right beside Louis as the orange trees in their front lawn sway, crisp leaves spinning down towards the ground and laying there, red and gold and yellow, little fires.  
Louis pulls Harry into his side, and Harry’s sitting in a way that makes it possible for Louis to press his mouth to Harry’s temple, murmuring the strains to Maisie’s favorite song. “Little darling, it’s been a long and lonely winter,” he sings, the words muffled against Harry’s warm and soft skin, the words softened by the love he feels. “Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here.”

Harry laughs, but it’s a wet sound and Louis can tell that he’s about to cry. “I like that song,” he says, sighing softly.

Louis grins, rubbing small circles over Harry’s back as he starts singing again, his voice low and all for Harry. “Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo, here comes the sun, and I say—”

“It’ll be alright,” Harry finishes, smiling as he wipes at his tears.

And they’re quiet after that, just sitting on their porch step as the wind rattles the screen door, and everything feels warm and hazy and just right, even if it is a bit cold, even if it is the beginning of September.

“What about that guy?” Harry frowns a while later, nodding towards a man walking his dog on the sidewalk across the road. “He hasn’t got a kid. Where’s he heading off to this early in the morning?”

“Maybe to the park?” Louis suggests.

“We all know what that means.” Harry says, eyes wide with disbelief.

It’s hard not to laugh. Louis glances at Harry from the corner of his eye, watching as Harry bites at his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as sunlight streams down through the gaps in the trees and colours the edges of his curls gold. “Harry, you can’t just accuse an innocent man of being a predator,” He says, still trying not to grin.

“All men are predators, Louis!” Harry’s words are a cross between a whisper and a shout, and once again, he honestly looks like he’s about to cry. “Don’t you watch the news?” 

Louis frowns a bit and Harry sighs, “Sorry. I just want her to be okay, you know? I don’t want her to grow up, and I want her to be only as tall as my arm forever.” He’s nosing along the line of Louis’ jaw now, pressing kisses there like little apologies that Louis doesn’t mind at all. A moment later Harry sighs again, speaking with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed to Louis’ temple, warm and orange and all light. “We forgot about the cupcakes, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, and he smiles as a car passes by them on the street, a car full of a mom and a child heading to school. “We forgot about the cupcakes.”

-

With the curtains drawn like this, Maisie's room is all dim light. 

A window is cracked open somewhere in the house, and the cool air makes everything feel cold and clean, but Harry's body is warm like a something lit up, so Louis shifts closer to him on Maisie's bed. 

"Harry," He says, and his voice is slow. It's soft.

It's always like that when he's talking to Harry, all of his letters coming out soft around the edges, blurred up like they've broken themselves down for the boy. Louis remembers a time before Maisie when he used to get annoyed by that—by the way his words sounded like come here every time he said see you later, every time he spoke to the boy with the green eyes like leaves on the surface of the pool.

He only knew Harry as Gemma's brother at the time, and now look.

"Harry," Louis whispers again, hovering over Harry on Masie's bed. Right now, everything is all soft pink and dream-like, and Louis wants to make Harry feel better. "Hey, you're alright."

Harry sniffles, but he doesn't pull the blanket away from his face.

Louis grins, dipping down and nosing along the place where he knows Harry's face must be. When he speaks, his words are muffled against the blanket, washing out into the room like rain. "I love you like crazy, baby," he murmurs, grinning as Harry sniffles again, the quilt separating their faces and the heat seeping through. Louis' laughing, but his words are quiet, and he talks to Harry like he's talking to a child. "Show me your face, baby," he mumbles, his lips moving against the jut of Harry's chin. "I love you, baby, because you're my baby and I love you."

"That doesn't even make sense," Harry laughs, but it's a wet sound, blurred up by the floral quilt between them.

Louis grins, and then he's moving backwards, the mattress dipping slightly beneath his weight as he shuffles down on the bed, picking up the bottom corners of the blanket.

"Louis," Harry says, sounding like he's trying to warn him, but he's laughing at the same time, soft and warm and oh so Harry.

Louis grins, ducking his head down beneath the blanket, and suddenly everything around him becomes hazy and warm, the light filtering through the fabric and striking at the dust. Louis' kneeling beneath the covers and he can feel Harry staring at him, but he's already taking off Harry's socks, laughing out loud when he sees the bright blue nail polish covering each toe.

"Lovely color choice, babe," Louis says as he glances back up.

Harry's looking at him, his face blurred a bit by the shadows that the blanket makes—but even here, sunlight makes its way in, turning everything into a kaleidoscope of darkness and gold light. 

"Shut up," Harry says, his mouth quirking up.

"Maze told me that you forced her to paint your nails," Louis grins, lowering down so that he's hovering above Harry's body on all fours, hands resting on either side of Harry's knees. Smiling, Louis leans down and uses one hand to ruck Harry's jumper up a bit—it's Louis' jumper, actually—and then his mouth drops when he sees a glittering picture of Princess Ariel's face sitting on the jut of Harry's hip bone. "What the hell is this?"

"Oh no," Harry groans loudly, smiling as he hides his face behind his hands. "You weren't supposed to see that."

"So is this what you do in your spare time, then?" Louis grins, licking his lips so that he doesn't laugh. Everything is quiet and hushed under here, everything is all pale light. "Temporary tattoos of Disney Princesses?"

"Maze made it sound like such a great idea," Harry defends, lowering his hands from his face. He's smiling and frowning at the same time, somehow, and Louis thinks he's one of the most beautiful things in the world. In the universe, maybe. "She's got one too," Harry says. "On her bicep."

Louis laughs softly, because yeah, he definitely noticed that one this morning. He moves up a bit on the bed until his face is hovering just over Harry's, until Harry's watching him with a soft sort of focus, his eyes green, green, green, making Louis feel like his body's full of stars.

Harry's face is all blotchy and red and his eyes are puffy from crying, and Louis' seriously torn between laughing and kissing the tears away.

"I love you like crazy, baby," Louis says again, softer this time.

He means it, he honestly does, because Harry's looking up at him with his lips slightly parted, little breaths coming out warm over Louis' face, and Louis just wants to lick into his mouth and make him feel good, he wants to make his boy feel brilliant.

Sniffling, Harry avoids Louis' gaze—he looks at Louis' neck, at Louis' ears, at the blanket behind Louis' head. "What if she's scared at school, Lou? Or what if she doesn't know where the bathroom is and she's too afraid to ask?"

"You know Maisie," Louis grins, "That girl's not afraid of anything."

"Yeah," Harry laughs wetly, a one-syllable sound as he wipes at his eyes, their bodies so close that Louis can feel the rise and fall of Harry's chest. "She got that from you, I think."

"Hey," Louis says, and he's not smiling anymore. There's something about this moment that seems so fragile, there's something about this scene in their lives that seems delicate—this afternoon that they're spending hiding out beneath their little girl's bed sheets, the whole world nothing but a rose colored dream—and it's like if Louis speaks too loud, he'll break the spell. If he speaks too loud, everything around him will shatter. "Hey, Harry. Look at me."

Harry looks at him, and Louis leans down a bit so that their foreheads are pressed together, their mouths just inches away. Harry's hand is resting on the lower dip of Louis back, fisted in Louis' jumper, and the feeling is all warmth.

"You are Harry Styles Tomlinson and you can bloody do this," Louis says, thumbing over the space beside Harry's ears. "Maze is probably at school having a party right now, yeah? I bet she loves it."

Harry nods, tilting his face up a bit as he breathes softly, and his mouth brushes over Louis' bottom lip—and there it is again, an ache that's slow, slow, slow. "You honestly think that?"

"Yeah, of course I do." Louis replies, moving up a bit to kiss over Harry's eyelids, both of them, soft little kisses that only leave him wanting more. When he speaks again, his words are muffled against the dip of Harry's chin. "You see how excited she was?"

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Harry says slowly, and then he sniffles a bit, smiling up at Louis. The light comes in pieces, and everything under the blanket is stuffy and too warm but Louis doesn’t mind it, not when Harry’s looking at him like this, like Louis’ got the whole universe inside of him. “Thanks, Lou.”

Louis grins, and then he says, “You’ve still got flour in your hair.”

-

The soft lilting of running water fills up the bathroom, and it's a faraway sound that makes Louis feel like he's underwater, like he's moving through a sea of shifting dreams.   
He's always loved this, the way the bathroom gets all dim around noon, when he closes the curtains and all that comes through is bars of light.

"So, it's bath time, is it?" Harry asks from where he’s standing in the middle of the room. 

Looking over at him, Louis blinks, because the bars of light make Harry glow like there's a sun beneath his skin and he's so bloody perfect that Louis can't even take it. Nodding, he smiles. "Yeah." 

Swallowing, he moves towards Harry with slow steps. Harry's watching him as he does, his green eyes bright like everything else about him. When he's standing in front of Harry, they just stare at each other for a moment. It's like he's spinning even though he's standing still and yeah, it's crazy. It's crazy that he still feels so much—that he feels more. 

With a small smile, Louis reaches out, fingers sliding up beneath the hem of Harry's jumper to trail over his lower stomach. 

Harry's mouth parts a little, his focus turning soft.

Louis smiles at that, then pulls his hands away and pats Harry's sides. "Arms up." 

Harry frowns, "Hey, touch me—"

"—Arms up, Haz," Louis says again, laughing this time when Harry's frown deepens but he does what he's told. 

Louis takes a small step back, watching with a fond smile as Harry slips out of his shirt. It falls to the floor with a rustle of fabric and then Harry's just standing there with his chest and arms all bare and Louis wants to touch him, so he does. 

"Gotta take these off, too," He says, pulling at the waistband of Harry's trousers. Harry swallows and Louis sinks to his knees, the blue bathroom rug soft beneath him as he unbuttons Harry's jeans and pulls them down, slow, slow, slow. 

Breath leaves Harry's mouth quickly and it's a beautiful sound, that. It's a sound that makes Louis' chest all tight, makes him not back away when Harry's trousers are pooled around his ankles and instead—he cleans closer, lips trailing over Harry's upper thigh for a moment. Just moving back and forth, back and forth, back of forth as the steam from the bath fills the room, making everything all distant and faraway except for this, except for them.

Harry's silent, but Louis feels his body shaking a little the way it does whenever he's aroused and then Louis' sighing, a rush of want surging through him. "Okay," He says, using all the effort he can to pull away, "in the bath."

"Louis," Harry whines, his little mouth pouting.

Louis grins as he stands, "Come on, you love baths." 

"Love you more," The words are a mumble as Harry moves over to the bath, still frowning. The water splashes softly as he steps inside and Louis just watches, can't help but watch, and he doesn't think he'll ever get over how much he loves Harry, how much he wants Harry all the time. "Love you way more. Like, so much more you wouldn't even believe." 

"Aw, Haz," Louis says, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Smiling, He grabs a towel off the rack on the wall before moving towards the tub and kneeling down at the side. Harry's sitting in the water already, resting his head back against the tiled wall, and he stares at Louis through the shadow and light and steam. "I'm going to carve that on that tree in our backyard." 

Harry raises an eyebrow, mouth tilting up into a smile. "The trees haven't even grown yet."

"I know," Louis says, grabbing a wash towel from the bottom of the tub. He rings it out, eyes flickering up to meet Harry's, "I'm going to carve it there in, like, twenty years when they have." 

They're silent for a moment, just looking at each other, and Louis knows why. He's pretty much said that he thinks they'll still be together twenty years from now and he doesn't miss the way Harry's eyes have grown all gentle, like he's been thinking the same thing but didn't know how to say it.

Hell, Louis feels that.

His voice is soft as he says, "Turn around. Lean back against here." 

The bathwater sounds like the sea as Harry shifts in the tub so he's resting against the edge with the back of his head facing Louis. For a moment, Louis' distracted by the stretch of Harry's back, by Harry's neck, by the way his hair is gold from the weak sunlight that streams in through the window. And then Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis, grinning as he says, "Wash me, please." 

Louis blinks, remembering Maisie's words from earlier. 

Wow, he thinks. Listen to that. 

Still smiling, Louis wets the wash cloth again as Harry turns back around. Then he takes it and moves it over Harry's skin, watching the way the beads of water roll down his back for a moment before dipping the cloth lower and washing them away. Harry sighs when Louis' hand trails up, the cloth warm beneath his hands as he washes Harry's shoulders and neck and chest. "Good, eyes closed now," Louis says.

He waits for Harry to look over his shoulder again with scrunched up eyes, making a little show, and then grins as he cups water in his hands and releases it over Harry's head. Harry sputters as the warm bath water falls over him, darkening his hair and making his curls go flat, and Louis can't stop smiling. 

He reaches out and pulls Harry back a little, pulls him back until he's resting against Louis' shoulder. The warm water from his hair seeps through Louis' shirt but Louis grins at the way Harry smiles with his eyes still closed, the way Harry's suddenly nuzzling his wet face at Louis' neck like he's not even thinking about it. 

"There you go," Louis says with a small laugh, and he lets the cloth go and touches Harry with his hands instead.

He trails his fingers down Harry's stomach as he presses his mouth against the side of Harry's face. Harry's smile falls a little as his mouth parts again, and he just breathes in and out, in and out, in and out, a wave sound. Harry's legs and lower stomach are all lost beneath the bathwater, but Louis makes out the red shine of Ariel's hair on Harry's hip.

Smiling, his fingers hover right above the glittery tattoo. "Maybe we should get tattoos," Louis says, mostly just thinking out loud, but once he says it he can see it. Yeah, he can see it. 

"Of what?" Harry asks, amused, but his voice is just a breath against Louis' cheek. 

Hands moving lower, Louis presses his fingers against Harry's knee. He thinks of the Little Mermaid because that damn princess is right there, and he thinks of the sea, and he thinks of things that help people find their way home. "Dunno," The word is muffled against Harry's face as Louis slides his hands up the top of Harry's thighs, liking the way they tremble a bit when he does that. "Maybe a boat. Or a compass. Oh, or maybe I can get a boat and you can get a compass." 

"No, I think you'd be the compass," Harry says, voice still barely there. "’Cause I'd be lost if I didn't have you to follow, yeah?" 

Louis laughs, sudden and loud against the sleepy silence. "Good one." 

Harry's laughing too, but his eyes are still closed, his head still a gentle pressure against Louis' shoulder. "No, I'm serious. I really love having you around. I just really love you, actually." 

It's the way Harry says it, maybe. He says the words like it's the easiest thing in the word, loving Louis, and that makes Louis' chest expand and ache with a feeling only Harry can cause.

And Maisie, too. Always Maisie. 

Louis murmurs, "Hey," and leans in as he curls his fingers beneath Harry's chin, tilting his head up so they're even closer, so their mouths are almost touching. 

Harry blinks his eyes open and they're soft like he's just woken up.

Louis loves that. 

"You and Maisie are the best things that have ever happened to me," He says, honest, so honest, because he really doesn't know where he'd be without them. "And I quite love having you around, too."

Harry's smiling when Louis' kisses him, when Louis gets him out of the bath and dries him up, when Louis dresses him in a jumper and sweat pants only to undress him again and lick into his mouth, hands tight around his hips, yet gentle, always gentle when it comes to this.

That’s the end of them talking for a while.

-

"That was a nice bath," Harry says through a yawn, the words falling against Louis' neck. Harry's got his head rested on Louis' shoulder, their arms hooked together, fingers joined tight. "Next time, though, I want you in there with me."

Louis laughs, pulling Harry closer by a hand on the dip of his hip.

They're sitting on the front porch, the wooden step warm beneath Louis' socked feet as the afternoon sun shines over the street and edges all the rooftops orange. 

Louis straightens a little, tilting his head to look down at Harry's face. His eyes are closed and his face looks all soft, like he's about to fall into a dream. "Tired?" He asks, smiling.   
Harry nods, opening his eyes into a squint to glance at Louis. The autumn air is cool for September, but Harry is all warm, warm, warm. "I should have slept a bit more last night, huh?" 

"Yeah, babe, you should have," Louis laughs, dipping down to press a quick kiss to Harry's cheek before pulling away again, grinning, "You made beautiful cupcakes though. You're my little bakery boy now." 

“Thanks, Lou. I appreciate it,” Harry smiles, and then scrunches his face up and purses his lips like he’s asking for a kiss.  
Louis rolls his eyes, leaning in to press his mouth against Harry’s anyways, and the taste is all soft and warm and sugary, his other hand coming up to graze the side of Harry's face.

Sweeter than sugar, Harry is. He's always been like that.

And it makes Louis sigh into Harry's mouth, it makes Louis hold him a little tighter like he’s afraid to let go.

At the sound of an engine humming, they pull apart.

Louis turns to look down the road, grinning wide when he spots the bright yellow speck of a school bus, and Harry's already standing up beside him, nearly jumping up and down as he says, "Oh, god, she’s back.” He says, hand rising up to cover his mouth as the bus comes closer and closer. "She's here. What if she's hurt? What if it was the worst day she's ever had and it’s all our fault?"

Standing up, Louis smiles as he wraps an arm around Harry's waist, squeezing once as he says, "Hey, don't worry, she’s okay," and then he pulls away and hops down the steps until he’s on the grass, crisp autumn leaves crunching beneath his booted feet. 

Moving across the lawn, Louis feels Harry come up beside him as the bus comes even closer, driving up to the curb before coming to a full stop. The whole word feels frozen, stilted, and there’s a beat of nothing before the bus door is hinging open and Louis sees Maisie standing on the bottom step with a smile as big as the moon.

"Maze!" Harry shouts with a laugh, already running past Louis to lift their girl out of the bus, spinning her around while she giggles, her head thrown back as she yells, "Papa, no dizzies!"

Beneath the light of the pale sun, Maisie looks like an angel.

Louis watches them for a moment, then he smiles and waves at the bus driver, who smiles and waves back before shutting the bus door and continuing on down the street.  
When Louis turns back to face Harry, he's got Maisie cradled in his arms the way he used to hold her when she was a baby, with her calves dangling over the side of his elbows. Her expression is a mix between a frown and a grin as Harry presses kisses all over her face. “I’ve missed you so much,” He's saying, murmuring the words against Maisie's forehead and cheeks and Maisie looks amused but also annoyed, like she's just too much of a grown up for this. “How was your day? Are you alright? Did you get our note?”

Louis laughs because, Jesus. He married a bloody sap. 

A bloody adorable sap, but still.

“Yes,” Maisie mumbles, her words lost to Harry's skin as he holds her close. "And I was the princess of snack time." 

"The princess of snack time?" Harry repeats, with a loud laugh, and he lifts his head to grin back at Louis, green eyes squinted against the sunlight. "Did you hear that? Our baby girl was the princess of snack time!"

Across the street, a woman jogging looks over at them with a smile. 

"Okay," Louis says, laughing as he walks towards them. He slips an arm over Harry's shoulder, gently turning them in the direction of the house, which sits behind them with its bright yellow door and its ivy snaking up the sides. “Time to go inside, yeah?” 

-

Maisie and Harry curl up together on the couch like sleepy kittens, and Louis watches them from where he stands in the doorframe.

He watches as Maisie yawns and rubs at her eyes with the backs of her hands, watches how Harry smiles at that and pulls her closer so his jaw's resting over the top of her head, and they have the same mouth, those two. 

They've got the same soul inside of them.

On the television, one of Maisie's shows is playing, but it's muted—nothing but a blur of bright colors and people smiling without sound. Sunlight streams in through the window above the couch, making everything glow gold, and Louis' eyes flicker around the room—from the television to the family pictures hanging up above it, pictures from their wedding and Maisie's first birthday and Maisie's third birthday and pictures that Maisie has drawn of all three of them as dinosaurs, all three of them holding hands beneath a Crayola yellow sun.

And Louis can't even help himself from smiling.

He can't help it because this is his family, this is his life, him and Harry and Maisie and their little house with the ivy snaking up the sides, with the bathroom tiles covered in fish stickers, with the toys and the broken crayons and the love, love, love. 

This, what he has right here—

It's so much more than he ever thought it could be. 

And then, suddenly, Harry's glancing over his shoulder like he can feel Louis standing there, and he blinks, smiling softly, the afternoon sunlight making his eyes pale green. "Hey," He says, voice low because Maisie's already half asleep on his chest, her hands fisted in the front of his shirt, mouth slightly parted as she breathes softly.

"Hi," Louis says, still standing in the door way.

Harry nods towards the empty space beside him, looking back at Louis with a smile on his face. "Come here, I miss you."

At this, Maisie lifts her head up a bit and her eyes are all squinted with sleep, curls wild all around her face, and she mumbles her words into her fist. "Me too, Daddy," she says, and then her head is back against Harry's chest again, eyes shut as she slips slowly into a dream. Louis laughs, and sometimes he feels like his heart is going to explode—because there's so much beauty all around him every day, and it's impossible to take it all in. 

It's like a side effect of having Harry and Maisie in his life, he thinks.

It's a side effect of loving them so much.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Louis says, smiling as he makes his way over towards the couch. He lowers himself down beside Harry, resting his head against Harry's shoulder as he watches the cartoon images move across the television screen. "Seems like she had a good time today, doesn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Lou," Harry says slowly, his voice filled with amusement. "She's quite worn out. It's probably best if she comes to work with me tomorrow instead, yeah? You can join us and we’ll have ourselves a little picnic in the office, what do you think?"

Louis laughs, and the whole world stops to listen. "Shut up, Curly."

Maisie smiles in her sleep and that—

Well, that's the beginning of that.


End file.
